Two Bits of Parenting Advice John Winchester Took
by knitterlywitch
Summary: Full title: Two Bits of Parenting Advice John Winchester Took and one he ignored. Exactly what it says on the tin. Wee!Chesters, daily life, Bobby, Jim, Missouri, and Ellen all briefly appear.


**Two Bits of Parenting Advice John Winchester Took (And One He Ignored.)**

WIC

Every month around the fifteenth for about five and a half years after Mary's death, no matter where in the country John Winchester was, he'd return to Kansas. To Lawrence. Not because he wanted to. But because he had to in order to pick up WIC vouchers. WIC stood for Women, Infants, and Children. It was a government program that let John get fruits and juices and vegetables and milk and beans for his sons. Make sure they had something health to eat.

To John Winchester, it was barely a step above welfare. And John would almost rather steal outright than take welfare. But it's something that both Bobby and Jim agree on, and, considering one of the only other things the two men didn't fight about was the proper way to kill a vampire, that was saying something. So, John did it, knowing the other two probably wouldn't hunt with him if he didn't, or worse, in the case of Bobby who John _didn't _exactly trust, call Child Protective Services on him.

He'd get vouchers. He could still remember most of them; the vouchers, when Dean was still on it the first year, gave him nearly ten gallons of milk a month. Six dollars worth of fresh fruit, usually he'd buy as many of the reduced price bananas as he could and bring them to Jim's and dehydrate them. Similac for Sammy. Cereal. Eggs. Cheese. Beans. Juice. Bread. Staples of one's diet.

Hard to store when one was on the road, unless one rented a room with a kitchenette, which John _always _had to. The eggs and other stuff he couldn't cook in the microwave, he'd store at Jim's, so the other man had them for when he watched the kids overnight.

John insisted, when he first started to get them, that no matter what monster or demon he was fighting, no matter what it took, he'd always make that food just for the boys. Never for himself. And, no matter how hungry he got in between fake credit cards and bad pool games, he never ate a bite of it.

Bobby

"Boy, if you take one of those pears without asking, I'm going to skin your hide," Missouri Mosley shouted at Dean Winchester, who was in her kitchen along with his brother, Sammy.

John looked at her. "How do you do that?"

Missouri raised an eyebrow. "Psychic," she reminded him. "I know you ain't that dumb."

John looked at her. "Any advice for, you know, the boys?"

"I know you don't trust Bobby Singer that well-"

"-I don't."

"But they need him and he needs them. Let him see them. Not as much as Jim necessarily, but sometimes. He'll be a good influence on them. And Mary likes him."

"You talked to her?"

"A little. She doesn't come around that often, but sometimes she does."

"And she likes him?" John questioned again.

Missouri nodded.

The next day, rather than calling Jim and asking if he could watch the boys, John called Bobby.

Toast

Mary's family had never owned a toaster. The way she told it, her father refused to buy any appliance that he didn't need, no matter how much longer it took to make things. His household never bought the microwaves that had become popular, and they never owned a toaster either.

Instead, when Mary's mother wanted to make toast for the family, she'd place the bread, just bread, no butter, no oil, no anything, into a large pan and toast it the way one would toast grilled cheese. Then she'd butter up the slices and serve them to the family.

Mary did things the same way when she was alive. She'd only touch the toaster John had bought her as a wedding gift when she was in a hurry and there was no other way to cook breakfast quickly enough.

And when she died and John went on the road, whenever he had access to a full kitchen, he'd fix toast Mary's way for the boys.

"It's faster to just plunk it in the toaster. Can fix the boys something else at the same time that way," Ellen said, popping her head into the Roadhouse kitchen she was letting John use.

"I know," John replied.

"Then why don't you?"

"It's not how I do it." And it was that simple.


End file.
